Why do I fear the stars – Part 2

They do not wear a dress of courage
Nor a garb of thorns
My shiny mysterious sisters of the night, lighting the skies.

They do not need to be reminded, they do not forget.
Holding a billion promises, secret kisses, and passionate pleas.
They are witnesses, even when bones be ash.

Did you know you can bet on stars?
That you’ll never lose a bet on their suicide?
And agree or not
You must agree to disagree,
Their terrorism is a necessity.

I mean,
Suicide bombers are looked on with a mix of contempt and awe,
We see lives cut short in their prime,
By the most suffering is ever known to mankind.

We are shaken by the workings of a twisted mind,
And in retrospect
We all must agree
There is something to respect,
In a blood sacrifice for a belief.

Yet I digress.

This is about the stars and why I fear them.

They do not wear a dress of courage
Nor a garb of thorns

There is no self-preservation in their answer to duty’s call
They are courage in the flesh.

They do not need to be reminded, they do not forget.
That they matter and their sacrifice counts.
I mean,
Who motivates the stars to shine?

And did you know stars must burn to shine?
That they die with each burning?

Yet night after night without fail,
My shiny mysterious sisters of the night,
Circle the expanse of the clouds,
in a dance to the death.

This is why I fear the stars.

St. Davnique
© 2019

Void

You think you need something
you get it
And then you need another thing again
It goes on and on
Like a black spiral
You can’t stop
You are insatiable
You gorge, inhale, gather till your barns are overflowing
You stand, and look, and smile, with a satisfied air of pride
You acquire all your heart can think of
And then
Then….
Then…..
You feel empty again.
Your barn’s full on the outside,
But you are empty on the inside
You grope and grope
You catch nothing
You surround yourself with people
Addictions, achievements, to feel something
But
You feel even emptier
Like a far stretched desert land
Why Man, oh Why???
What’s the purpose of gathering
When it does not fill that void, that deep, dark void
WHY????

EMENIKE CHINWENDU
© 2019

Barren Mother

I have an empty well of a belly.
My womb has known nothing but dying blood all my living years.
I have thought of no one but myself,
Fed no one but myself,
Placed no one before myself,
How do I have a womb except it was made to bear another, and yet
I have no idea what it means to pour a part of myself into another.
“A breast feeding mother?”
That’s a foreign name to me.
“A bread winning father?”
Who dares call me?
I am my own hero,
My own salt,
My own light in a shady place,
Come with me and I’ll lead you into the darkness.
I’d snuff the life out of my light because I do not want to share it.
I’m an evil already happening,
A menace waiting to be uncovered.
My tactics are new everyday
Yet my mind is old.
I am a dirty, dirty soul with a clogged up heart and a rigid body.

This is why I have come before the Rock of Ages,
Before The fire that purifies without consuming to ashes.
My tears produce more salt now than I have ever thought to produce.
I do not know when I ever took lessons from the ocean
But my ill will like waves come crushing over me.
I am caught up in my own dirt web,
Spun in my own fear.
I have come to you as a barren womb in need for a child.
I was born to be mother, now may I know a child?
I have come as a fruitless tree in its season.
As hungry fire,
I’m desperate.
As a docile branch,
I submit.
I accept defeat.
Let your rains fall on this arid land again, Lord.
I admit nothing was ever my own;
As I am left with nothing now I am reminded where I come from.
Give me one child, Yahweh ‘tis All I ask.
Surprise the quick-to-conclude with Your quick-to-deliver.
Let them know when their calling-me-barren tongues call me mother,
Let them know from every side of the flipping coin earth,
That You make the Barren Mother.

Adaobi Chiemelu
(c) 2018

SUICIDE

I’ve written lots of things and deleted it,
I’m short of letters, talkless about words,
I’ve crumpled the pages of my notebooks,
written lots of doodles, smile at one minute,
And then cry at the next,
But now I’m just typing,

I smile at things that make me happy,
I frown at uncertainties,
Should I? Shouldn’t I? Can I? What if?
Questions…….
Afraid to take a decisive step,
I sit and sit,
Becoming a smiling mannequin,
For all and sundry,

I strive to make everyone smile,
All the time,
At the expense of my piece of mind,
Hey you, Be this……….
You there, Be that…….
Come on, I think you’re better this way……
On and on, they say,
Till my world spirals and gets sucked up in “voices”,

“Voices”,
Till I became dead to the VOICE,
Seriously, I can’t even hear HIM no more,
I’m at the end of the rope,
Teetering on the brink of sanity,
Toying with, no, relishing the thought of going over the edge,
Falling down, down, down and down,
Smiling at the very thought of it,
Dying,

Dying??
Why?
For whom?
To what end?
To punish who?
The voice said.
Myself, I reply.
Myself, for being a fool.
For hating myself.
For being a piece of dead leaf
Being tossed to and fro by the tumultuous wave.
For not loving myself., I answered,

And then what next, He asked?
That, I don’t have the answer to,
I’d be dead already,
Okay, you worthless piece,
Since that’s how you see yourself,
That’s what I’ll call you,
You were not put in the world to just breathe in its air,
Drink is water, eat it’s food, enjoy its holidays,
Spend its monies, and just give up like that,

You exist, you don’t just live,
Love yourself, not just others,
Don’t exchange peace of mind with piece of friends,
It ain’t worth it,
You are worth more,
Ah! So much more than rubies,
So much more than money,
Because of just one thing,
I love you!
So, get down from that cliff,
Sit down, breathe 3,2,1, there you are!
Stand up, dust your shoes,
The world is waiting for you!

Emenike Chinwendu

© 2018